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28 Ocak 2022, 19:06
This is a story of fiction. All characters referenced or directly involved are 18 years of age or older. This is my writing. I have no issue with any inspiration taken, as I've been inspired by many authors here. Use the sentiment, not the writing.
This is an incest story. Some may be uncomfortable with the feelings and dialogue. Please don't venture forward if you're sensitive to these topics. Also, please excuse any spelling or grammatical errors. Comments welcome good or bad. Thank you.
*****
For the next two weeks my father and I found no opportunity to be together. My mother or my sister, or some combinations of the two were always around; we began feeling like caged animals. My body ached for him; so much so that I'd taken to masturbating in my room to relieve myself, fantasizing my father was inside me.
Graduation was a two weeks away, and I'd be free from high school. Though I had no idea what I was going to do long-term, I figured I'd get a retail job over the summer and then make my long-term plans.
Three weeks after our initial weekend, my mother was busy with a basement project and my sister away at a girlfriend's house; he snuck into my room. My father found me naked with my torso propped against my headboard, and my bent legs wide open. I was anxiously rubbing my clitoris while stuffing two fingers into my dripping pussy.
When I saw him I wished he could pull out his cock and masturbate with me, or maybe undress and fuck me right there, but I knew he couldn't join in in any capacity. He closed my bedroom door, walked to my bed and sat on the edge. I looked at him with pleading childish want and womanly lust.
"Show me baby."
I continued laying siege to my hole, plunging in and out with my breasts bouncing and hitting my right arm. I was rubbing my swollen clit with my left hand, smashing it down and rubbing in fast circular motion. I don't remember closing my eyes, but I must've.
"You're so beautiful baby, don't stop."
With those words I felt wholly sexual.
And then he whispered "Open your eyes and look at me baby."
Opening my eyes, my breathing changed becoming faster and shallow, my eyes connected with my father's. Such need inside me, I wanted to show him, I wanted to give him the deepest part of my sexuality. It's the first time I masturbated in front of another person.
"Are you close, baby?"
I nodded yes as a tear escaped my eye.
"Come for daddy," With his words and expression of belief, I climaxed. My body jerked wildly and liquid discharged from my cunt; the fluid running down my fingers before pooling briefly inside my right palm, and then spilling over and seeping into the cotton sheet beneath my ass.
With my father observing me, being my sexual advocate, I climaxed with intensity. It was exactly what I needed. I knew with certainty, as his eyes danced over my form; my father loved my body. My father loved my sex.
As I withdrew my fingers, my breathing returned to normal, I nodded toward the stiff outline inside his jeans and whispered, "I want you."
"I want you too baby, but not with your mother in the house."
I made a faux pouty face, like a little girl, and we both smiled at the fiction.
My father planned for us to spend the night away from the house the following Friday. Of course I had no idea what he said to my mother, and even now I don't recall ever asking him about the excuse he provided that first night away. I was so young; I don't think it crossed my mind to inquire.
We left the house separately, but at the end of our street became a caravan of two. I followed him until he pulled into a large parking lot and motioned me to park. I parked my used Ford, got out, and grabbed my bag from the back seat.
By this time my father was next to me, his car parked behind mine with the driver's side door facing the rear of my car. He took my bag and made sure my car was properly locked. As I walked to the passenger side, he quickly brushed past me and opened the door for me. It was a surreal experience; I was transitioning from daughter to date. He opened the trunk placing my overnight bag inside.
He climbed in and we sat quietly for a moment, then he reached over and drawing my face to his brought our lips together and we shared a loving kiss.
We headed to the greater metropolitan area, which was a forty five minute drive from our house. We had a blast on the way. We listened to the radio, touched each other back and forth and periodically kissed. It was amazing, that time in the car; it was a period of time connecting two distinct realities. I now refer to it as 'the conjunction car ride'.
It was valet parking at the hotel, and honestly we weren't a 'valet parking' family. Valet parking was much less common in those days. I only remember parking that way twice during my entire childhood. My father took care of everything and our bags were taken to our room, as I was raised from my seat.
I wore a conservative van escort (https://vippescort.com/ad-category/van-escort/) outfit, a simple black pencil skirt and an off white blouse. I dressed anticipating the need for identification, I was nervous about being carded and subsequently rejected, but I never seemed to get carded when I was out with my father. Later, I came to understand it was an unspoken gentlemen's rule when a man escorts a much younger woman.
My father and I headed for the bar. The bar was on the far side of a heavily paneled room, the dark mahogany paneling and the bar itself looked like something out of a movie, beautiful and elegant. The room itself seemed to have a personality of its own, which made me feel grown-up, but it was also intimidating mysteriously forcing me to straighten my posture and walk more elegantly.
I'd been to bars before; as my girlfriends and I snuck into local clubs where the dancing was good. But in those bars, the floors were sticky, the bar area sparse, and often filled with college boys trying to cop a feel.
This... was something else entirely.
My father pulled out a bar stool for me, and as I sat down as he motioned to the bartender and ordered our drinks. He ordered bourbon and a white wine for me. The bartender never asked for my identification.
"I'm so happy daddy." I said as quietly as possible. My father caught sight of the bartender's reflection in the bar mirror, dipping his chin and cocking his head at my words. My father nodded for me to look, and although I looked over, I didn't completely grasp the implication of the nod.
"Should I not call you daddy in public?" I whispered to him.
"Baby, I'll always want you to call me daddy." He stroked my face, his eyes narrowing on my mouth he kissed me tenderly knowing the bartender was watching.
That kiss felt more real and more connected than any other. To some degree, I knew then I was ruined for any other man, though I didn't understand it at the time. I reeled in the lewd act of kissing my father in public, but it was only lewd to us as no one else knew we were father and daughter. The world melted away, and though 'daddy' may be the word he likes to hear and the word I enjoy using, it didn't alter that fact we were now lovers.
I enjoyed being with my father, he was charming and handsome, the type of man any woman would be proud to be with. He controlled the conversation intellectually, and I remember periodically feeling like a young obedient bride, though I couldn't possibly understand or articulate those emotions so far beyond the scope of my experience at the time. It only feels that way now, in retrospect. Then, I was simply in awe of him.
I did recognize one fact, a fact that would be furthered that evening and after. The fact I came to appreciate was I liked his control. Boys my age were boring, stupid and unsure of themselves, and not what a young girl needs. I needed a man, and that man was my father.
My father stood facing me against the bar as we talked and sipped our drinks. At the beginning of the second round he planted his shoe on the foot rest of my bar stool, forcing me to spread my legs to accommodate his knee. His knee rested there for the remainder of the evening. We burrowed a little closer without being too overtly criminal.
As was customary, but not understandable to me at the time, we drew some snarky looks from women on the arm of their age appropriate husbands. Interestingly, I noticed none of the men reacted that way. I guess that's why I'm not one of those women inclined to give 'the slut look' to a young girl on the arm of an older man. I was one of those girls, and even with time, my fond memories far exceed any feeling of hostility or resentment. If anything, I nod and smile, remembering those times with immense satisfaction, which affords me the freedom and confidence to bestow acceptance when presented with that same scenario today.
After two hours at the bar daddy ordered two coffees. It was relatively early and we discussed dinner, but neither of us had the appetite for it. We had other things on our mind, now amplified by the time spent mixing our bodies, the influence of alcohol and a public display of affection. It was unimaginable, sitting down and quietly consuming a meal together.
We finished our coffees and daddy helped me off the bar stool, escorting me through the opulent lobby to a small bank of gold colored elevators. I felt like his princess, I had no idea I'd ever be his queen. I was proud; he was a tall handsome man with an amazing body and a full head of dark hair just starting to fleck gray. I felt prized being on his arm that night. My dirty blonde hair pinned up as sophisticate as I could manage, my lips painted matte red accentuating my pale almost translucent complexion. My green eyes sparkling, I drew the attention of every man.
He took my hand and we entered the elevator, rising without interruption until we reached the nineteenth floor, and the door dinged open. van escort bayan (https://vippescort.com/ad-category/van-escort/) He ushered me out, put his arm around me, and we walked quietly to our room. He slid the key in the lock and opened the door. Then surprisingly, he scooped me up into his arms before stepping into our room.
My father carried me over the threshold. He set me down and brought his hand to my face, stroked the top of my cheekbone with his thumb and kissed me.
I'd never been in a hotel suite, and though my father seemed at ease, it felt like I was in a foreign country. I remained reserved, though my girlish instinct was to run around and check everything out.
We were standing inside the doorway when my father woke me from my thoughts. He knew how I felt, and enjoyed surprising me and watching me as I tried to control myself. He was my father after all.
"I'm having a drink, sit with me baby." He kissed my forehead and strolled into the massive living area, which held a large credenza topped with a variety of liquor bottles. My father sat in the wing back chair next to the credenza and took off his shoes and socks, and then laid his jacket over the chair. He stood, grabbed a glass, and poured himself a neat whisky. I walked to the sofa, and following his lead stepped out of my black pumps and slid them under the coffee table. I sat down on the sofa and curled my legs, tucking them beneath my hips.
I watched him take a drink of whisky from my seat on the sofa. He poured a little more into the glass and walked over to me casually with his drink in hand. He was standing in front of me, and for a second I was a little girl again, remembering how he loomed tall over my body as a child.
"May I have a sip?" I asked.
Daddy handed me the glass and I took a small sip. As I handed the tumbler back our fingers touched. With a quick tilt he downed the reminder of the whisky, and set the empty glass on the coffee table behind him. He stood silently staring at me.
His stare was of a hungry nature, as if he wanted to consume me. The silence continued as his eyes ran over my body. He was assessing the situation, but also assessing me. Thinking back, I believe he used that silence to choose his words.
He lifted his chin and his stare mutated to a complete predatory state, and with an imposing tone, "Show daddy what you can do with that mouth."
I lifted my chin; a sly smile blossomed across my lips as warmth shot to my cheeks. Our eyes connected, my father began rubbing his member on the outside of his slacks, and we began the cock sucking coupling ritual. I was anxious, but equally aroused and craving to taste him.
Only eighteen I knew little of the larger world, but we were in this beautiful suite, and I knew one thing. I wanted the experience to be special. I wanted the first time I went down on my father to be extraordinary, and forever seared into memory.
I slowly unwound my legs from beneath my hips, and placing my stocking feet on the plush carpet below I dug in my toes to its rich texture. I was a touch tipsy from the wine, which meant I'd likely be able to throat him. Daddy was in for a surprise. He's never experienced my mouth, and I was eager to deliver his desire.
My father had good sexual timing, and he didn't rush me.
My father was patient; he kept rubbing his member as my hands floated onto his legs and I began stroking them up and down. My touch so light, I was tracing his legs rather than rubbing them. Reaching around to the back his legs, I traced from below his ass down to his knees and back up lightly squeezing the upper part of his legs. I brought my hands around his thighs to the front of his legs.
He unbuttoned the top and only button of his slacks, signaling it was time. I removed my hands from his legs and positioned them at his zipper, and holding one side of the fabric taut I used my right hand to unzip his slacks. I slid his slacks down with the bottom of my palms, leaving my fingers to lightly graze his bare legs until they reached his knees and fell down. With only his boxers, his enormous erection was visible, and I was turned on.
I reached out and tugged the waistband of his boxers, stretching them out over his erection before sliding them down his legs. Again, the light touch of my fingers stimulating him further, his erect penis twitched at the sensation, he was fully aroused. His right hand grabbed the base of his cock, fisting it as the boxers fell away. He stepped out of his slacks and boxers at his feet, and kicked the clothing away.
He swept the back of his hand against my cheek and ran his thumb along my jawline. He removed his hand from the base of his cock, as if to hand it over, and I quickly replaced it with my hand.
He loosened his tie and removed it, then unbuttoned his shirt, tossing both items toward the pile of his discarded clothing.
I began sweetly stroking him, acting a little unsure and slightly confused. And for just a moment my father believed escort van (https://vippescort.com/ad-category/van-escort/) my timid act, and I witnessed a twinge of disappointment in his eyes.
I slithered down off the sofa and knelt, my legs finding space beneath the sofa; I tightened my grip mildly around the base and gave it a little squeeze. I began circling my tongue around the head with extra attention underneath where the shaft meets the head. I did this several times before placing my mouth around the head sucking lightly.
I allowed it to pop out once, faking a girlish Oops, with a tiny smile and wide eyes. But daddy was no longer fooled, and more importantly no longer interested in my little girl routine. His eyes made it clear what he wanted, my father wanted to know my mouth.
I was desperate to throat him, even though I was unsure due to his size. I relaxed my throat and inch by inch took his largeness into my mouth; I took him all the way down my throat until his cock bottomed out. God he smelled so good, it was a manly smell, musky with a hint of soap.
Looking down at me, he drew and released a deep breath as his eyes refocused. I slowly withdrew and throated him three more times before tackling his entire cock.
My mouth rode his shaft as I raised my left hand and cupped his balls. I began kneading them gently as my tongue snaked the bottom of his shaft from base to head, with side to side movements. He arched his neck back and released a deep moan, his head level with the ceiling he muttered raggedly "Damn, baby" He brought his head forward and looked down at me.
Daddy was pleased, seeing his little girl on her knees with his cock in her mouth. He smiled, acknowledging his approval.
Wrapping my lips around the base I created tight seal, and sucked hard from base to head, twirling my tongue around the head before repeating the action. His cock twitch in my mouth; he let out another moan as he arched his neck again.
I withdrew his cock from my mouth, but continued to stroke it as I placed my mouth at his balls skimming my tongue across the front of his scrotum tenderly.
I kissed each of daddy's balls and took them, one by one, into my mouth sucking each lovingly as I continued stroking his shaft. Releasing the second ball from my mouth, I used the tip of my tongue flicking the back of his sack horizontally, and with more length of tongue licked the back of his sack coating it with saliva before giving it a bit of my breath. He shuddered.
Changing direction, I began licking him vertically meeting that crevice connecting his sack to his body. I used the tip of my tongue to scratch him there, in that tiny area, back and forth with my tongue. I continued to lick vertically up into the crevice and down along the small bit of skin separating his balls to the underside of his cock, and back to front again. I felt his cock twitch again. "Oh, little girl," he sighed in a low guttural voice.
I stopped stroking and grabbed his root more firmly, keeping his orgasm at bay. I brought my mouth back to the head and began sucking more firmly, recoating his shaft with my mouth, and throating him again. I was looking up at him, and I began moaning while riding his shaft.
"That's right, baby. Suck daddy's cock. Daddy knows you love sucking cock." I moaned in agreement, and in the delight of hearing him say something so filthy to me.
My father drew the most pleasure from feeling of my mouth on his cock, but he also found an enormous source of enjoyment watching me ride his cock with my mouth. Bobbing more, I began throating him repeatedly; I loved feeling the head of his cock buried deep in my throat.
I pulled off my pacifier and waited at the head, my mouth open and willing. I tongued around his head again and again, opening my mouth and waiting, repeating the action until he cued into my message. I wanted daddy to choose.
Did he want me to finish, or would he prefer to get involved? I wanted to feel his hips thrust forward, delivering that big gorgeous cock down my throat. I longed for it.
A moment of reservation passed before my father understood my willingness, and once he did, his male bravado kicked in. We were in tune, and my father wasn't shy in demonstrating his dominance. Placing one hand on the back of my head, he raised his leg and planted his foot on the sofa.
I loved looking at those big juicy balls between his legs. He gripped my hair in a fist and thrust my face deep onto his cock. My left arm reached between his open legs and I planted my hand on his ass cheek. My right arm slid around his waist where I grabbed his other ass cheek. I squeezed his ass, and pulled him in balls to chin. "Jesus Christ."
At that moment my father knew he had permission to use my mouth anyway he wished.
I never took my eyes away from his, and daddy oscillated his gaze between my eyes and his cock entering my mouth, watching as he pumped in and out of his little girl's mouth.
"That's right baby... give daddy your mouth."
He increased the pace, alternating between deep thrusts, and short quick strokes. Again, I moaned in delight, humming on his shaft. He buried his cock in my throat and held my face to his pubic bone for a long time. He smiled at me, and then pulled me off.
This is an incest story. Some may be uncomfortable with the feelings and dialogue. Please don't venture forward if you're sensitive to these topics. Also, please excuse any spelling or grammatical errors. Comments welcome good or bad. Thank you.
*****
For the next two weeks my father and I found no opportunity to be together. My mother or my sister, or some combinations of the two were always around; we began feeling like caged animals. My body ached for him; so much so that I'd taken to masturbating in my room to relieve myself, fantasizing my father was inside me.
Graduation was a two weeks away, and I'd be free from high school. Though I had no idea what I was going to do long-term, I figured I'd get a retail job over the summer and then make my long-term plans.
Three weeks after our initial weekend, my mother was busy with a basement project and my sister away at a girlfriend's house; he snuck into my room. My father found me naked with my torso propped against my headboard, and my bent legs wide open. I was anxiously rubbing my clitoris while stuffing two fingers into my dripping pussy.
When I saw him I wished he could pull out his cock and masturbate with me, or maybe undress and fuck me right there, but I knew he couldn't join in in any capacity. He closed my bedroom door, walked to my bed and sat on the edge. I looked at him with pleading childish want and womanly lust.
"Show me baby."
I continued laying siege to my hole, plunging in and out with my breasts bouncing and hitting my right arm. I was rubbing my swollen clit with my left hand, smashing it down and rubbing in fast circular motion. I don't remember closing my eyes, but I must've.
"You're so beautiful baby, don't stop."
With those words I felt wholly sexual.
And then he whispered "Open your eyes and look at me baby."
Opening my eyes, my breathing changed becoming faster and shallow, my eyes connected with my father's. Such need inside me, I wanted to show him, I wanted to give him the deepest part of my sexuality. It's the first time I masturbated in front of another person.
"Are you close, baby?"
I nodded yes as a tear escaped my eye.
"Come for daddy," With his words and expression of belief, I climaxed. My body jerked wildly and liquid discharged from my cunt; the fluid running down my fingers before pooling briefly inside my right palm, and then spilling over and seeping into the cotton sheet beneath my ass.
With my father observing me, being my sexual advocate, I climaxed with intensity. It was exactly what I needed. I knew with certainty, as his eyes danced over my form; my father loved my body. My father loved my sex.
As I withdrew my fingers, my breathing returned to normal, I nodded toward the stiff outline inside his jeans and whispered, "I want you."
"I want you too baby, but not with your mother in the house."
I made a faux pouty face, like a little girl, and we both smiled at the fiction.
My father planned for us to spend the night away from the house the following Friday. Of course I had no idea what he said to my mother, and even now I don't recall ever asking him about the excuse he provided that first night away. I was so young; I don't think it crossed my mind to inquire.
We left the house separately, but at the end of our street became a caravan of two. I followed him until he pulled into a large parking lot and motioned me to park. I parked my used Ford, got out, and grabbed my bag from the back seat.
By this time my father was next to me, his car parked behind mine with the driver's side door facing the rear of my car. He took my bag and made sure my car was properly locked. As I walked to the passenger side, he quickly brushed past me and opened the door for me. It was a surreal experience; I was transitioning from daughter to date. He opened the trunk placing my overnight bag inside.
He climbed in and we sat quietly for a moment, then he reached over and drawing my face to his brought our lips together and we shared a loving kiss.
We headed to the greater metropolitan area, which was a forty five minute drive from our house. We had a blast on the way. We listened to the radio, touched each other back and forth and periodically kissed. It was amazing, that time in the car; it was a period of time connecting two distinct realities. I now refer to it as 'the conjunction car ride'.
It was valet parking at the hotel, and honestly we weren't a 'valet parking' family. Valet parking was much less common in those days. I only remember parking that way twice during my entire childhood. My father took care of everything and our bags were taken to our room, as I was raised from my seat.
I wore a conservative van escort (https://vippescort.com/ad-category/van-escort/) outfit, a simple black pencil skirt and an off white blouse. I dressed anticipating the need for identification, I was nervous about being carded and subsequently rejected, but I never seemed to get carded when I was out with my father. Later, I came to understand it was an unspoken gentlemen's rule when a man escorts a much younger woman.
My father and I headed for the bar. The bar was on the far side of a heavily paneled room, the dark mahogany paneling and the bar itself looked like something out of a movie, beautiful and elegant. The room itself seemed to have a personality of its own, which made me feel grown-up, but it was also intimidating mysteriously forcing me to straighten my posture and walk more elegantly.
I'd been to bars before; as my girlfriends and I snuck into local clubs where the dancing was good. But in those bars, the floors were sticky, the bar area sparse, and often filled with college boys trying to cop a feel.
This... was something else entirely.
My father pulled out a bar stool for me, and as I sat down as he motioned to the bartender and ordered our drinks. He ordered bourbon and a white wine for me. The bartender never asked for my identification.
"I'm so happy daddy." I said as quietly as possible. My father caught sight of the bartender's reflection in the bar mirror, dipping his chin and cocking his head at my words. My father nodded for me to look, and although I looked over, I didn't completely grasp the implication of the nod.
"Should I not call you daddy in public?" I whispered to him.
"Baby, I'll always want you to call me daddy." He stroked my face, his eyes narrowing on my mouth he kissed me tenderly knowing the bartender was watching.
That kiss felt more real and more connected than any other. To some degree, I knew then I was ruined for any other man, though I didn't understand it at the time. I reeled in the lewd act of kissing my father in public, but it was only lewd to us as no one else knew we were father and daughter. The world melted away, and though 'daddy' may be the word he likes to hear and the word I enjoy using, it didn't alter that fact we were now lovers.
I enjoyed being with my father, he was charming and handsome, the type of man any woman would be proud to be with. He controlled the conversation intellectually, and I remember periodically feeling like a young obedient bride, though I couldn't possibly understand or articulate those emotions so far beyond the scope of my experience at the time. It only feels that way now, in retrospect. Then, I was simply in awe of him.
I did recognize one fact, a fact that would be furthered that evening and after. The fact I came to appreciate was I liked his control. Boys my age were boring, stupid and unsure of themselves, and not what a young girl needs. I needed a man, and that man was my father.
My father stood facing me against the bar as we talked and sipped our drinks. At the beginning of the second round he planted his shoe on the foot rest of my bar stool, forcing me to spread my legs to accommodate his knee. His knee rested there for the remainder of the evening. We burrowed a little closer without being too overtly criminal.
As was customary, but not understandable to me at the time, we drew some snarky looks from women on the arm of their age appropriate husbands. Interestingly, I noticed none of the men reacted that way. I guess that's why I'm not one of those women inclined to give 'the slut look' to a young girl on the arm of an older man. I was one of those girls, and even with time, my fond memories far exceed any feeling of hostility or resentment. If anything, I nod and smile, remembering those times with immense satisfaction, which affords me the freedom and confidence to bestow acceptance when presented with that same scenario today.
After two hours at the bar daddy ordered two coffees. It was relatively early and we discussed dinner, but neither of us had the appetite for it. We had other things on our mind, now amplified by the time spent mixing our bodies, the influence of alcohol and a public display of affection. It was unimaginable, sitting down and quietly consuming a meal together.
We finished our coffees and daddy helped me off the bar stool, escorting me through the opulent lobby to a small bank of gold colored elevators. I felt like his princess, I had no idea I'd ever be his queen. I was proud; he was a tall handsome man with an amazing body and a full head of dark hair just starting to fleck gray. I felt prized being on his arm that night. My dirty blonde hair pinned up as sophisticate as I could manage, my lips painted matte red accentuating my pale almost translucent complexion. My green eyes sparkling, I drew the attention of every man.
He took my hand and we entered the elevator, rising without interruption until we reached the nineteenth floor, and the door dinged open. van escort bayan (https://vippescort.com/ad-category/van-escort/) He ushered me out, put his arm around me, and we walked quietly to our room. He slid the key in the lock and opened the door. Then surprisingly, he scooped me up into his arms before stepping into our room.
My father carried me over the threshold. He set me down and brought his hand to my face, stroked the top of my cheekbone with his thumb and kissed me.
I'd never been in a hotel suite, and though my father seemed at ease, it felt like I was in a foreign country. I remained reserved, though my girlish instinct was to run around and check everything out.
We were standing inside the doorway when my father woke me from my thoughts. He knew how I felt, and enjoyed surprising me and watching me as I tried to control myself. He was my father after all.
"I'm having a drink, sit with me baby." He kissed my forehead and strolled into the massive living area, which held a large credenza topped with a variety of liquor bottles. My father sat in the wing back chair next to the credenza and took off his shoes and socks, and then laid his jacket over the chair. He stood, grabbed a glass, and poured himself a neat whisky. I walked to the sofa, and following his lead stepped out of my black pumps and slid them under the coffee table. I sat down on the sofa and curled my legs, tucking them beneath my hips.
I watched him take a drink of whisky from my seat on the sofa. He poured a little more into the glass and walked over to me casually with his drink in hand. He was standing in front of me, and for a second I was a little girl again, remembering how he loomed tall over my body as a child.
"May I have a sip?" I asked.
Daddy handed me the glass and I took a small sip. As I handed the tumbler back our fingers touched. With a quick tilt he downed the reminder of the whisky, and set the empty glass on the coffee table behind him. He stood silently staring at me.
His stare was of a hungry nature, as if he wanted to consume me. The silence continued as his eyes ran over my body. He was assessing the situation, but also assessing me. Thinking back, I believe he used that silence to choose his words.
He lifted his chin and his stare mutated to a complete predatory state, and with an imposing tone, "Show daddy what you can do with that mouth."
I lifted my chin; a sly smile blossomed across my lips as warmth shot to my cheeks. Our eyes connected, my father began rubbing his member on the outside of his slacks, and we began the cock sucking coupling ritual. I was anxious, but equally aroused and craving to taste him.
Only eighteen I knew little of the larger world, but we were in this beautiful suite, and I knew one thing. I wanted the experience to be special. I wanted the first time I went down on my father to be extraordinary, and forever seared into memory.
I slowly unwound my legs from beneath my hips, and placing my stocking feet on the plush carpet below I dug in my toes to its rich texture. I was a touch tipsy from the wine, which meant I'd likely be able to throat him. Daddy was in for a surprise. He's never experienced my mouth, and I was eager to deliver his desire.
My father had good sexual timing, and he didn't rush me.
My father was patient; he kept rubbing his member as my hands floated onto his legs and I began stroking them up and down. My touch so light, I was tracing his legs rather than rubbing them. Reaching around to the back his legs, I traced from below his ass down to his knees and back up lightly squeezing the upper part of his legs. I brought my hands around his thighs to the front of his legs.
He unbuttoned the top and only button of his slacks, signaling it was time. I removed my hands from his legs and positioned them at his zipper, and holding one side of the fabric taut I used my right hand to unzip his slacks. I slid his slacks down with the bottom of my palms, leaving my fingers to lightly graze his bare legs until they reached his knees and fell down. With only his boxers, his enormous erection was visible, and I was turned on.
I reached out and tugged the waistband of his boxers, stretching them out over his erection before sliding them down his legs. Again, the light touch of my fingers stimulating him further, his erect penis twitched at the sensation, he was fully aroused. His right hand grabbed the base of his cock, fisting it as the boxers fell away. He stepped out of his slacks and boxers at his feet, and kicked the clothing away.
He swept the back of his hand against my cheek and ran his thumb along my jawline. He removed his hand from the base of his cock, as if to hand it over, and I quickly replaced it with my hand.
He loosened his tie and removed it, then unbuttoned his shirt, tossing both items toward the pile of his discarded clothing.
I began sweetly stroking him, acting a little unsure and slightly confused. And for just a moment my father believed escort van (https://vippescort.com/ad-category/van-escort/) my timid act, and I witnessed a twinge of disappointment in his eyes.
I slithered down off the sofa and knelt, my legs finding space beneath the sofa; I tightened my grip mildly around the base and gave it a little squeeze. I began circling my tongue around the head with extra attention underneath where the shaft meets the head. I did this several times before placing my mouth around the head sucking lightly.
I allowed it to pop out once, faking a girlish Oops, with a tiny smile and wide eyes. But daddy was no longer fooled, and more importantly no longer interested in my little girl routine. His eyes made it clear what he wanted, my father wanted to know my mouth.
I was desperate to throat him, even though I was unsure due to his size. I relaxed my throat and inch by inch took his largeness into my mouth; I took him all the way down my throat until his cock bottomed out. God he smelled so good, it was a manly smell, musky with a hint of soap.
Looking down at me, he drew and released a deep breath as his eyes refocused. I slowly withdrew and throated him three more times before tackling his entire cock.
My mouth rode his shaft as I raised my left hand and cupped his balls. I began kneading them gently as my tongue snaked the bottom of his shaft from base to head, with side to side movements. He arched his neck back and released a deep moan, his head level with the ceiling he muttered raggedly "Damn, baby" He brought his head forward and looked down at me.
Daddy was pleased, seeing his little girl on her knees with his cock in her mouth. He smiled, acknowledging his approval.
Wrapping my lips around the base I created tight seal, and sucked hard from base to head, twirling my tongue around the head before repeating the action. His cock twitch in my mouth; he let out another moan as he arched his neck again.
I withdrew his cock from my mouth, but continued to stroke it as I placed my mouth at his balls skimming my tongue across the front of his scrotum tenderly.
I kissed each of daddy's balls and took them, one by one, into my mouth sucking each lovingly as I continued stroking his shaft. Releasing the second ball from my mouth, I used the tip of my tongue flicking the back of his sack horizontally, and with more length of tongue licked the back of his sack coating it with saliva before giving it a bit of my breath. He shuddered.
Changing direction, I began licking him vertically meeting that crevice connecting his sack to his body. I used the tip of my tongue to scratch him there, in that tiny area, back and forth with my tongue. I continued to lick vertically up into the crevice and down along the small bit of skin separating his balls to the underside of his cock, and back to front again. I felt his cock twitch again. "Oh, little girl," he sighed in a low guttural voice.
I stopped stroking and grabbed his root more firmly, keeping his orgasm at bay. I brought my mouth back to the head and began sucking more firmly, recoating his shaft with my mouth, and throating him again. I was looking up at him, and I began moaning while riding his shaft.
"That's right, baby. Suck daddy's cock. Daddy knows you love sucking cock." I moaned in agreement, and in the delight of hearing him say something so filthy to me.
My father drew the most pleasure from feeling of my mouth on his cock, but he also found an enormous source of enjoyment watching me ride his cock with my mouth. Bobbing more, I began throating him repeatedly; I loved feeling the head of his cock buried deep in my throat.
I pulled off my pacifier and waited at the head, my mouth open and willing. I tongued around his head again and again, opening my mouth and waiting, repeating the action until he cued into my message. I wanted daddy to choose.
Did he want me to finish, or would he prefer to get involved? I wanted to feel his hips thrust forward, delivering that big gorgeous cock down my throat. I longed for it.
A moment of reservation passed before my father understood my willingness, and once he did, his male bravado kicked in. We were in tune, and my father wasn't shy in demonstrating his dominance. Placing one hand on the back of my head, he raised his leg and planted his foot on the sofa.
I loved looking at those big juicy balls between his legs. He gripped my hair in a fist and thrust my face deep onto his cock. My left arm reached between his open legs and I planted my hand on his ass cheek. My right arm slid around his waist where I grabbed his other ass cheek. I squeezed his ass, and pulled him in balls to chin. "Jesus Christ."
At that moment my father knew he had permission to use my mouth anyway he wished.
I never took my eyes away from his, and daddy oscillated his gaze between my eyes and his cock entering my mouth, watching as he pumped in and out of his little girl's mouth.
"That's right baby... give daddy your mouth."
He increased the pace, alternating between deep thrusts, and short quick strokes. Again, I moaned in delight, humming on his shaft. He buried his cock in my throat and held my face to his pubic bone for a long time. He smiled at me, and then pulled me off.